Now that he’s here, my little John, it’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t. All those years of yearning, the shame and disgrace at my infertility, the envy I felt toward all the mothers around me who took their children for granted… that all faded like steam from a kettle when Zechariah returned from Jerusalem, mute and full of news he couldn’t tell me, and I became pregnant.
When I asked him what had happened in the temple, he wrote it out for me: “An angel appeared to me and told me that my prayer has been heard. He said you would bear me a son, and we will name him John.” It didn’t occur to me to take this literally! I was sure an angel had appeared to my husband, and that the muteness meant something, but I thought it was some spiritual message for us. It wasn’t until a few months on, as I realized something was going on inside my body, that it dawned on me that this was true!
And then, in my sixth month, Mary came to see me so unexpectedly – I remember that like it was yesterday. They told me my cousin was here, and I came out to the hall – and everything went white for a few seconds. The baby inside me went nuts – it felt like he was trying to do back-flips. “Mary is holding the Son of God in her womb, inside her.” That was as clear as day to me, even before she told me about the angel and everything. I didn’t even think about how strange and impossible that could be, that God would somehow be there, inside a woman’s body, but I was filled with this knowledge. Nothing seemed impossible to me anymore. I knew my child would have an important mission, but her child... he is our salvation.
Feeling filled with the Holy Spirit, I said, very loudly – I’m pretty soft-spoken most of the time – “Blessed are you among women! And blessed is the child you will bear. But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Because I felt so humbled and so privileged, like I was in the presence of something very sacred, very… holy. I told her how the baby inside me leapt for joy at the sound of her voice – like he knew.
I said, “Blessed is she who believes that what the Lord said to her will actually be accomplished. What faith!” How is it we could believe these strange things, both of us? Why is it Mary could believe what the angel said, and my husband couldn’t? But then, did I believe all those years, when I felt God was withholding blessing from me, that God did have a plan for me, that God did love me?
I don’t think God wants us to have no expectations. I think God wants us always to expect his blessing, and to be open to what that looks like. I had to learn a new way to wait on the Lord. Only when I had given up on what I wanted was I free to receive God’s greatest gift to me. Only when I stopped expecting a child did I find myself … expecting.
